


(Interlude) Sideswipe - The Kid's Not Alright

by fuzipenguin



Series: Half Your Age +7 [33]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Older!Twins, Other, Twincest, younger!ratchet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23511187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Sideswipe's Coping Mechanisms are perhaps not the greatest.
Relationships: Sideswipe/Sunstreaker (Transformers)
Series: Half Your Age +7 [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1142771
Comments: 20
Kudos: 104





	(Interlude) Sideswipe - The Kid's Not Alright

“What is _wrong_ with you?”

Sideswipe opened his optics at the familiar exasperated voice, gaze darting around until it landed on an upside down medic peering intently at him.

“Well, I mean…”

Ratchet waved an impatient hand through the air. “Never mind that. Too much to unpack there. Instead, answer me this: why have you been doing a handstand in the hall for the past six hours?”

“Because Auror dared me to,” Sideswipe promptly returned. Ratchet was silent for a moment and even though his face was upside down, Sideswipe was still able to identify Ratchet's befuddled expression. Which was confusing in of itself; what exactly didn't Ratchet get? 

“And you accepted?!”

“Yeah, why not?”

Ratchet’s mouth opened and then almost immediately snapped shut. He shook his head, pushed himself upright, and walked off, muttering quietly to himself.

“Well, you could have said ‘bye’,” Sideswipe grumbled before closing his optics again. Six hours in and he had a doozy of a helmache and the bright lights in the hallway weren’t doing it any favors.

\--

“Hold out your arm,” Ratchet instructed, lips pressed together in a firm line. Sideswipe complied without complaint, studying the jerky motions and tense shoulders that belonged to his favorite person other than Sunstreaker. He had always been good about reading others, but he never really did a lot with that information unless he gathered it from the two people he cared most about.

“You’re torqued,” Sideswipe observed quietly after a few seconds.

Ratchet froze and then his head slowly lifted until his incredulous gaze met Sideswipe’s.

“You think?” Ratchet snapped, voice so sharp that it made Sideswipe flinch. “You’ve been in the brig seven times for indecent exposure… this month alone! The base commander is making me check you for viruses! Again!”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t have any ITDs,” Sideswipe remarked quietly. And flinched again when Ratchet whapped him upside the head.

“I wish you did!” Ratchet exclaimed, forcefully inserting the plug of the scanner into Sideswipe’s open port. “Maybe it would explain why lately you can’t seem to keep your spike covered long enough to make it behind closed doors!”

“To be fair… one of those times I actually _was_ behind a door,” Sideswipe pointed out, a little offended. It wasn’t his fault that he was so irresistible his partners couldn’t wait to get to their quarters.

If Ratchet had the ability to shoot lasers out of his optics, Sideswipe would have been in serious trouble. “The base commander’s office door does not count, Sideswipe!!!”

\--

“Do you understand why you are here, Sideswipe?”

Sideswipe glanced up from his lap to the hulking gray psychiatrist sitting behind his desk. Perse had his hands folded over one another, flat on the table surface, and his tiny, beady optics were fixed on Sideswipe.

For a doctor of the mind, he didn’t exactly promote feelings of safety and reassurance, Sideswipe decided. He could understand branching out, but maybe after getting his degree, Perse should have changed his form from an infantry tank to something a little… softer.

“Is it the minibot thing?” Sideswipe ventured, referring to the jumble of tiny limbs glued to one another in the east washracks two days ago. Sideswipe always made sure he was never anywhere near the site of his pranks when they went off, but the video from his hidden camera retrieved after the fact proved it had been a hilarious stunt.

Too bad he hadn’t realized there had been a witness who had seen him setting up the glue bomb earlier in the day. And he had been caught with the camera, still a little sticky from exploded goo, in his quarters.

Perse’s head tilted slightly to the left. “It’s partly the minibot thing. Several of your comrades are missing integral pieces of their armor and internal components. Brawn had to have two separate surgeries.”

A tingle of unease wiggled through his belly before Sideswipe squashed it flat. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t seen Ratchet in a few days.

“Brawn’s a tough fragger; says so in his designation.” Sideswipe waved an airy hand through the air and sat back in his chair, purposely at ease.

“And the Decepticons whose sparks you tore out in the last battle?” Perse asked gently.

Sideswipe couldn’t hold Perse’s optics; his gaze skidded off Perse’s face to land somewhere by his left shoulder. “Kinda my job to kill ‘cons. Dead is dead… right?”

\--

“… Sideswipe. Are you seriously crawling into my berth while pouring energon?”

Sideswipe paused with one knee on the bed, his other pede flat on the floor. He looked down at himself in the dim light overhead. There was already a small puddle on the berthcovers by Wheeljack’s hip.

“I mean… it’s more like dripping?” Sideswipe offered. Really… he’d had far worse. He had all his limbs and everything this time around.

“Why didn’t you get fixed up in MedBay?” Wheeljack asked with a sigh, pushing himself upright. He gently pushed Sideswipe aside so he could swing his legs over the side of the bed and fish underneath it. He pulled out a small first aid box with a noise of triumph and gestured Sideswipe to sit.

Sideswipe sat, head feeling a little light. His HUD helpfully informed him of his body’s two thirds energon loss so that was probably why. But he totally wasn’t pouring; things had definitely slowed down to a trickle at most.

“There was a line,” Sideswipe said.

“Mm. And Ratchet’s on duty,” Wheeljack commented, kneeling at Sideswipe’s pedes and peering at his side.

“I love Ratchet. Ratchet’s my favorite!” Sideswipe proclaimed. Because he really was, wasn’t he? Besides Sunstreaker, of course. But Sideswipe was doing his best lately to not think of Sunstreaker.

“Even when he’s berating you for being reckless and getting hurt because of it?” Wheeljack countered. His helmfins flashed a muted olive green color.

“You don’t know I was being reckless,” Sideswipe said haughtily.

Wheeljack paused in his gentle ministrations and looked up. The corners of his optics were pinched and his shoulders were slightly slumped. “Don’t I?” he asked sadly.

\--

It had been a good week, Sideswipe thought, although lately it had been hard for him to tell. But he hadn’t been chastised by any of his commanders, nor spent any time in the brig. And most importantly, Wheeljack hadn’t given him any concerned looks and Ratchet hadn’t yelled at him.

The three of them were sitting on Wheeljack and Ratchet’s cramped couch, Ratchet smushed between his and Wheeljack’s larger frames, watching old As The Kitchen Sinks episodes. The one they were on currently was an episode Sideswipe had seen dozens of times and it wasn’t anything spectacular. So there really wasn’t any reason why coolant tears started suddenly welling up and trickling down his cheeks.

He only noticed when one slipped its way past his lips and Sideswipe made a face at the odd taste. Then he reached up and found his face wet. He was perplexedly staring at his damp fingers when Ratchet suddenly clamped a hand down on his thigh and peered into his face.

“What’s wrong? Sideswipe?!” he demanded.

And Sideswipe realized that there wasn’t anything wrong. He was relatively happy and relaxed. There was only one thing that could make him _completely_ content at this moment and when he reached out, he found that that one thing was a lot closer than it previously had been.

“Oh,” Sideswipe said faintly, a tremble running through him. It brought with it a shot of clarity and Sideswipe whipped around to stare at Ratchet.

“I’ve been an idiot… a piping hot mess. I’m so sorry,” Sideswipe choked out, swiping at his face. “You’re right… I _do_ need Sunny to sparkling-sit me.”

Ratchet’s expression softened and he reached out, cupping Sideswipe’s cheek. “Come on, now… do the two of us really do that bad a job?” he asked, gesturing behind him at Wheeljack. The engineer was peering around Ratchet’s shoulder, worriedly watching Sideswipe.

“No, you’ve actually done a really great job,” Sideswipe said, sniffling. “But honestly, Sunny does it best.”

“I have no doubt. Well, once he gets here…”

“One month,” Sideswipe interjected and Ratchet’s orbital ridges furrowed.

“Excuse me?”

“At his current rate of travel, probably about one month,” Sideswipe said, giving a tremulous smile.

Ratchet stared at him for a long moment, his mouth open in an ‘o’ of shock. Then Ratchet and Sideswipe both jumped a foot in the air when Wheeljack gave a loud whoop and jumped to his feet.

“Your twin is coming? Sunstreaker’s on his way?” he asked excitedly.

Sideswipe nodded and grasped Ratchet’s hand, threading their fingers together and lightly squeezing. The touch calmed him in a way that it hadn’t as much in the last few months. But the prospect of Sunstreaker slowly moving his way closer made everything seem so much better and brighter.

“He’s coming,” Sideswipe confirmed as his small smile widened so much his face hurt .

  
~ End


End file.
